My Take on the Guardian Story

by Me010

A (in my opinion) fresh take on the "guardian of the hunt" story. Give it a read if you feel like it. Hopefully it interests you

39. Chapter 39 - OTC Part 2

Chapter 39 - OTC Part 2

After far too many hours of travelling, Percy and the others landed on a planet called Rhealrivera, the home planet of the Enforcer School. This place, was far more visually interesting the Kennegmagogia. Whereas Kennegmagogia was a barren wasteland, Rhealrivera was dark and stormy. It was raining when they arrived, and were it not for Chaos' third blessing, he would barely be able to see anything.

As the ramp descended, Percy and the other recruits stepped out to find that it was absolutely freezing. The moment they felt the atmosphere, both of Percy's arms and legs broke out in goosebumps, and he felt himself start to shiver violently.

But it wasn't all bad. Like good ol' Lieutenant Lopek had informed them, Kennegmagogia had a gravitational force equivalent to 10 times the Universal normal. Rhealrivera didn't seem to have anything like that. It finally felt normal. If Percy had thought leaving Perstompa had been so wonderful, this was like that all over again. If it wasn't so damn cold, he'd almost feel like he was melting.

An Enforcer School Instructor came strolling out of a nearby building to greet them, as casual as anything.

"Recruits! Follow me!"

And he turned on his heel, and went right back inside.

Percy and the others had to make a concentrated effort not to sprint at top speed, but instead just shuffled along at a brisk pace. It felt weirdly embarrassing to go running into shelter like headless chickens, especially when the Instructor had been so casual about it all.

Percy, Pricela, and Moril burst through the door, trying to look far more dignified than they really were. The Instructor was watching them, shaking his head, like he was exasperated. Percy was pretty sure he heard the guy mutter, very quietly, 'Every time'.

"Alright, first of all, I know exactly who you all are. That doesn't matter here. All that matters, is what I think of you. If you keep your heads down, do the work, do your best, and stay out of the Instructors' way, then you'll be fine. If you don't, then we're gonna have a problem. Now, as you may know, there are 3 separate Schools under the Enforcer Branch. Whereas typically, you would only have to go to one or two, in order to join, you will attend all 3. The 3 Schools, are as follows; Investigation School, Criminal Apprehension School, and Forensic School. You'll work your way through them in that same order. Investigation School, is where you will learn to investigate crimes, discover the identities of perpetrators, and get down to the bottom of whatever has occurred. Criminal Apprehension School, is where you will learn to track down criminals, and how to properly take them into custody, without endangering the lives of any civilians. A lot of our traffic goes to both of those schools, so that the Investigators can apprehend their own targets rather than call in reinforcements. Then Forensic School, quite self-explanatory, is where you will learn to analyse a crime scene for evidence. Are there any questions?"

Percy, Pricela, and Moril all shook their heads once.

This guy had certainly made a better impression than the Soldier Branch asshole.

"Alright then. There'll be a truck coming for you in a few minutes. It'll take you to Investigation School."

And sure enough, a truck pulled up outside a few minutes later. The driver didn't get out. Percy couldn't blame him. He wouldn't want to get out in that weather either. But he had to, along with Pricela and Moril. The Instructor nodded at them once, and they nodded back before stepping out into the furious rain, and hurrying to the truck.

The truck, just a little smaller than a Humvee, was big enough for all three of them to sit in the back, quite comfortably. The moment the doors closed, the driver took off without a word.

Percy just looked out the window as they drove, examining the scenery. This place looked like a hellscape too. Just a different flavor than Kennegmagogia. Whereas Kennegmagogia was a barren wasteland, Rhealrivera looked like it was made entirely, of sharp, jagged rock formations, that someone had had looked at from above and carved roads out of. Along with the seemingly perpetual dark and gloomy weather, it was a deeply uncomfortable-looking place.

Percy couldn't help but notice that all the roads were perfectly straight, like an architect had drawn them with a ruler, and the builders had followed those designs to a tee. As well as perfectly straight, the roads were completely smooth. As if sanded down. There wasn't a single pot hole, or rough patch. And they were very straightforward. There were no scenic curves, or roadside patches of green grass, bushes, or trees. Functional, would probably be the best word for them.

The drive was mercifully short, and Percy figured he knew why. All of the Soldier Branch's Schools had been very far away from each other, requiring several hours of drive time to get from any one, to any other. It made sense. All the schools were massive, requiring miles and miles of space. The Mobility School alone, took up the rough equivalent of Canada.

But Percy couldn't imagine why the Enforcer Branch Schools would need a fraction of that kind of square footage. There was simply no need for it. So, why bother spacing everything out unnecessarily?

As their truck drew closer to the first collection of buildings they'd seen in around 45 minutes, Percy took a closer look out the window. The Investigation School looked… disappointingly normal. It was a bit like some of the Universities Percy had seen back on Earth, just stripped down to bare essentials, like so many other things in Chaos' Army.

There were several large buildings, that looked like lecture halls, and several more that looked like dorms. Everything was made out of red brick, aside, of course from the windows in each dorm room. There were no windows in the lecture-hall-looking buildings. Percy supposed that was very much on purpose. They wanted the trainees to devote their full attention to the subject matter, so why give them the opportunity to let their mind wander?

The truck pulled up outside one of the dorm buildings, and the guy who had been driving got out.

"Come with me," he told Percy, Pricela, and Moril without a backwards glance.

The three exchanged looks, slung their duffel bags over their shoulders, and followed the driver into the building, then up a few flights of stairs, and to a door with 418 stenciled on it.

"This is your room. In case no one's told you, there will be no parties, and no alcohol," Moril came dangerously close to smirking at that, "The rooms are soundproofed, but believe me, we'll know if you break these rules. Meet in the main building tomorrow at 06:30. Until then, do what you want."

He turned around, and left them. Percy looked at the other two, then opened the door and they filed in.

This dorm room was certainly better than any they'd had in their Soldier School days. For a start, it was a fair amount larger. The door was winged by two bunk beds, and there were 4 desks on the opposite wall, all neatly spaced. There was a single, though quite large, window on the wall the desks were facing, but there wasn't exactly much of a view. Just the Rhealrivera landscape, which looked like something out of a Science Fiction/Horror movie.

There was a bathroom to the right, and a small kitchenette on the left. Clearly these were little more than afterthoughts. Like whoever was designing the building, had done so with studying in mind, and only been reminded later that people needed things like food, and a toilet.

Once they'd dumped their bags on their beds, and thereby claiming them as their own, the three Spec Ops candidates left their room in search of a gym. They desperately needed to burn off some energy, and there was nearly 13 hours until they had to report in.

They found a gym quite quickly, and competition ensued in full. They started on the running machines, and almost immediately started upping the speed, or the incline to make their superiority over the other two obvious. Then the other two noticed, and took things up a further notch, and on and on it went. Eventually, they were all sprinting at 115 miles an hour, at a 35% incline, and only because that was the maximum the machines could handle. After keeping up this pace for nearly an entire hour, they all shared a look, and collectively came to a stop.

"Too… easy," Pricela panted, as she was bent almost in half, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Decent… warmup," Percy managed, in a very similar position to Pricela.

"Unghhhh," Moril groaned, face-down on the floor.

It took nearly 10 whole minute for the 3 of them to recover enough to continue. They shared a look of, 'God, that was stupid'. And then immediately proceeded to do it again with the weights.

When they woke up, many hours later, each and every muscle in their body screaming in pain so intense they were reminded of their time in Selection, they all got dressed in clean fatigues, and went down to the main building with 5 minutes to spare.

It was the same affair they had become used to. The lead Instructor for their class told them what was expected of them, they were issued a schedule, and then they got down to it.

Investigation School, turned out to be pretty interesting. They were taught about the psychology behind committing crimes, and how criminals would typically think. The subject matter was, predictably, quite morose. Serial killers, murderers, terrorists, rapists, theives, and so on. They learned exactly why they did what they did. They took detailed looks at cases solved by qualified Enforcer Branch Investigators, and were encouraged to analyse exactly why the detectives did what they did, and how it benefited or hindered them.

All in all, good stuff. It took just over 3 years of daily study before they graduated, feeling they had learned a lot. Their time in Investigation School had been well-spent, and had passed without great incident. Though, there was one ocassion where they'd come very close to giving themselves away.

It started when one of their classmates, an annoying little shit whose name they never bothered to learn, went on a long tirade to his little friends about how he had been to Spec Ops Selection. Naturally quite intrigued, Percy, Pricela, and Moril had leaned in closer and listened harder.

"Yeah, I passed, you know. But I told them I didn't want the job. Just not for me, really. They begged me to reconsider, of course, but I just told them no, and came here instead."

Now almost choking with laughter, Percy and the others struggled deeply to keep quiet. This was too good to ruin by laughing.

"Wow!" a sycophantic girl breathed with wide eyes, "What was it like?"

"What, Selection? Oh, I'm sure most people find it hard, but it really wasn't anything too bad. Just a lot of carrying things around, and running really far. It was no big deal, really. I'll never know why so many people fail."

"Yeah, I bet you won't," Pricela murmured just a little too loudly.

Percy and Moril snickered, and the lying shit turned around to glare at them.

"And what do you three want?" he demanded imperiously.

"Oh, nothing, don't worry about it," Moril said immediately.

"I said," Pricela began, "That I bet you'll never know why so many people fail Selection."

Moril sighed, and the liar just raised his eyebrows haughtily at her.

"And why is that?"

"Because you've never been to Selection, and I doubt you'll ever go," Pricela said, arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you know, bitch?" the same sycophantic girl asked, looking furious that the object of her obvious affection was being questioned.

Pricela shrugged, "I have a friend who went to Selection. He told me a little about what it was like."

"Ohhh, well then that makes an expert, is that right?"

"None of us ever said we're experts," Moril said quickly, getting in between the two groups. Always the mediator.

"No, no, this girl seems to know so much about it all."

"Look, let's just forget this ever happened, and we can all just go our separate ways," Moril tried.

"Not until she apologises," the liar said.

Moril gave Pricela a meaningful look, and to Percy's utter shock, she raised her hands in a relenting gesture.

"Alright, I'm sorry," she said, then paused for a few seconds before adding, "I'm sorry you've got such a tiny dick, that you feel the need to steal valor from the people who actually put in the work, to impress the airheaded bimbos you surround yourself with."

Ah, that was more like her.

The liar stared at her for a few seconds, jaw agape, before his face went the color of a tomato, and he went for her. Pricela just sidestepped him lazily and stuck her foot out to trip him. He went tumbling to the ground, and Pricela laughed mockingly.

With a little laugh of derision, the three of them walked away from the scene.

"You really shouldn't have done that," Moril said once they were out of earshot.

Pricela shrugged.

"We're supposed to be keeping a low profile. What if he tells someone about that?"

"Oh please, you saw him. You think that guy's gonna go running to an Instructor to tell them that he was just humiliated by a girl? I bet he's swearing all his little friends to silence right now. Fucking weasel."

To Percy's interest, she sounded slightly venomous towards the end, rather than the tone of apathy mixed with mocking as she had employed before.

"I fucking hate people who steal valor like that. Stupid losers, trying to impress their little posse."

"We all do," Moril said softly, "But that was still a very risky move."

Pricela breathed out deeply through the nose, and then her shoulders lowered and her head bowed.

"Yeah, you're right. It won't happen again."

And it didn't. There would be a few more instances over the years, when Pricela would be confronted with people who claimed honor they had no right to. She kept her mouth shut each time, but there was a noticeable tightening of her posture and jaw.

Percy, Pricela, and Moril began Criminal Apprehension School a few days later. They were all fairly excited, for obvious reasons. As far as they were concerned, it would be a school to teach them how to beat the shit out of criminals, and they'd just have the time of their lives.

As it turned out, they were half-right.

Half the course, the first half, was dedicated entirely to finding criminals. They focused on the hunt. Not a single punch thrown, for 8 long months. It was interesting stuff, true, but the three Spec Ops candidates hadn't had a fight since the lying sack of shit Pricela had tripped, and that had hardly been engaging.

But over the next 8 months, the three Spec Ops candidates got their wish. They spent their days doing brutal combatives techniques. Like everything else in Chaos' Army, it was brutal, efficient, and to-the-point. There were no unnecessary flourishes, and style begot no extra points. It felt like the next step of the Unarmed H-t-H classes in Basic.

That being said, Percy, Pricela, and Moril struggled a little bit at first. Not because they weren't good at fighting. They had proven that they were, thousands of times over, during OTC and Infantry School.

No, they struggled because of the instruction they'd received in OTC. The Spec Ops Instructors hadn't taught them to fight to wound, or apprehend. They'd taught them to kill, in the quickest, quietest, and most brutal ways imaginable. That had been the point. To kill. But now, they were being taught how to merely knock someone unconscious, without really hurting them that much, or, Chaos forbid, causing any permanent damage. When Pricela had asked if it wasn't more practical to simply gouge a suspect's eyes out to blind them, she'd been treated to a 10-minute lecture on brutality. The former assassin was not impressed. She'd kept her mouth shut, of course, but she'd been fuming for the entire rest of the day.

After the H-t-H stuff, came the tactical stuff. Like SWAT training. They did some CQB, but as part of a stack. A stack, was a group of shooters who were about to clear a house. They had sort of done similar stuff in OTC and Infantry School, but Percy, Pricela, and Moril still weren't used to being in a stack of that size. In OTC it had just been the three of them and Sengari. That was it. Now there was a dozen of them about to go into a building. It just felt weird.

The final test of Criminal Apprehension School, had been an interesting one. They would go through a simulation, to see exactly how they would handle a real case. For the purposes of the simulation, each candidate was given a profile on a criminal who had been determined to have commited some kind of crime. Percy's target, was wanted for triple homicide, and 2 counts of assault. He'd broken into a person's house, tied up the occupants, beaten them, and then shot them all in the head. Percy was then given a folder of accumulated information on the target - name, address, known associates, frequented establishments, and so on - and told to bring him in, within the next 2 days.

Percy had spent several hours, alone in a room, reading through the file. Then he spent another hour sitting there, eyes closed, deep in thought. If he had just committed such an atrocity, what would he need to do next? Where would he go? And perhaps more importantly, who would he turn to for help?

In the end, Percy hadn't even bothered to look for the man himself. He'd just staked out his best friend. And sure enough, Percy's target came knocking. And when he did, Percy descended upon him. Quite literally, as it happened. He'd been hiding on the best friend's roof, and jumped onto his target when he'd realised he was there. That single move had been enough to basically end the fight. Percy weighed nearly 300 pounds, and could easily have killed the man if he hadn't taken care to make sure he didn't land directly on his head or neck.

As it was, he landed on the guy's shoulder, sending him straight to the ground. Then Percy just leaned down, and delivered a sharp punch to the forehead, then shadow travelled them both to the simulated jail.

The target, a Criminal Apprehension School Instrutor, hadn't been very pleased with Percy. It was understandable of course, Percy had kinda hurt the guy. But he'd passed anyway.

After that, the three Spec Ops candidates were sent off to Forensic School. That was a serious pain in the ass. Not that it wasn't interesting; it was. But Percy simply was no made for such things. His body and mind were minor miracles, in what they were able to achieve. The same was true for any Spec Ops Operator or candidate. But this was just not for him.

The Forensic School lasted 2 years, and Percy had a thoroughly miserable time all the way through. Pricela did too. She, like Percy, was built for action. Moril got through it ok. Having been in the Spy Branch before putting in for Selection, he was used to the slow, methodical work far more than Percy. Pricela was good at that stuff too, when she needed to be. As an assassin, she was used to waiting days, or even weeks, for her target to give her the opportunity to end their life. But she agreed with Percy, that forensics was too far removed from the action for her to be satisfied.

The three Spec Ops candidates left Rhealrivera and were immediately sent to a planet called Velum, where they would go through Assassin School. And Assassin School, had a twist. Not the School itself though. The twist, was that Pricela wouldn't be coming with them.

Pricela had gone through Assassin School right out of Basic, which meant that if she went back, she might be recognised. While that wasn't really impactful, as they would know she was in Spec Ops anyway, since she'd gone to Selection and hadn't come back, it might shed some uncomfortable light on Percy and Moril, who would be identified as fellow Spec Ops candidates. Chaos' Army didn't want that, so Pricela would simply skip the school she had already been to, just as Moril would skip Spy School when they got around to it. They both had Chaos' 4th blessing of course, and Percy asked why she couldn't just change her appearance. But she explained that being in a different form was really uncomfortable, and it just wouldn't be sustainable for several years.

Assassin School was interesting enough. They weren't learning anything new, having already covered all the material being taught, and then some, in OTC Phase 1, but more repetition could never hurt. The biggest challenge, was going through it without Pricela. Percy had become quite used to her presence in his life over the past few decades. It just felt weird not to have her with him anymore. Even though he never said anything, Percy could tell that Moril was feeling the same way.

The pair of them had their fun, of course. Like the time Percy had confused inctopethane with indopethane; two poisons with a similar name, but vastly different effects. Inctopethane would kill whoever drank it, within 2 minutes. Indopethane, made the recipient shit themselves violently for several hours. It was used to lure the target to a specific area, like say, a bathroom. Good stuff.

But it would have been more fun with Pricela there.

They spent just over 4 years going over various methods of poisonings, long-distance kill shots, up close and personal knife work, how to make your kills look like accidents, and how to dress up your kill as some other crime rather than a targeted assassination, by making it look like the result of a home invasion turned bad or gang warfare, or whatever else.

They were also taught how to stalk their targets, and learn about them from afar. One of the more interesting parts of the course, was centered on how to remain hidden, even from an enemy with enhanced senses, like the natives of Diathlum, who were famous for their incredibly sense of smell.

It was interesting stuff, just nothing new.

In fact, that summed up a large portion of all the Schools they had been to thus far.

When Percy and Moril reunited with Pricela, it was like seeing a long-lost sibling again. They hugged and laughed, and though he would deny it vehemently later on, Percy was absolutely certain that he caught Moril wiping a tear away. Pricela just beamed at them. It seemed she had considered the two of them passing through what was her alma mater, in a sense, a right of passage. Now they had yet another shared experience. There was yet more common ground between them. She took great pleasure in asking what they had thought of it, and whether the Instructors that had taught her were still there, and what they other candidates had been like. In return, Percy and Moril asked what she had been up to in their absence, since 3 years was a long time.

"Oh, they sent me back to Perstompa for some extra training there. I did plenty of CQB drills and shit like that. Tons of long-distance shooting too. You better watch yourself, Percy, or you might just find that I make you cry like a little bitch next time we compete."

Ah, he had missed her.

"Oh, come on, Pricela, you're not bad enough to make me cry from shame. Give yourself some credit. Not too much, of course, just what you deserve."

"Shit, haven't you learned Jackson? Don't fuck with a trained poisoner."

"I'm a trained poisoner now too, remember?"

Moril spoke up, "Oh, yeah, Pric, you don't want to fuck with Jackson, or he'll make you shit yourself with a vengeance."

"One time I made that mistake. Once."

"Noooooooo," Pricela said, eyes wide with a perfect mixture of shock and pure joy, "Don't tell me you confused Inctopethane with Indopethane!"

"Once," Percy ground out through firmly clenched teeth.

Pricela howled with laughter, and Moril joined her. Percy glared at them both, silently planning on slipping them some Indopethane and see how funny they thought it was then.

After Assassin School, they all moved on to Undercover Operative School, which lasted 2 years, and taught them how best to convince dangerous criminals - drug kingpins, cult leaders, and the like - to believe they were who they said they were. They were taught not to act their cover, but to live it. Each and every question had to be answered with, 'Well, this is what my cover identity would do, so I'll do that'. Down to the drinks they drank, and the food they ate. It was exhausting to even contemplate, but incredibly important to understand.

After the Undercover Operative School, came the School Percy was the least excited for. Aside from Air Force School, of course. Percy and the others started Guerilla School.

Percy didn't know much about what was involved in being a Guerilla, aside from what Chaos had told him before he'd started Selection. Apparently, it meant fighting as a small militia, against an oppressive regime, by striking targets quickly and lethaly, and then melting back into shadows.

And that all sounded great.

But the other component to being a Guerilla, was instructing other small militias on how to fight.

Percy had been an Instructor at Camp Half-Blood for a few years, mainly teaching sword fighting. That had been ok, but just barely. He was a natural swordsman, not a natural teacher. It had been difficult. But Percy had done it to give something back to the community that had fostered him from age 12. But he wasn't about to volunteer to do something like that. Certainly not as one of his 4 core professions. It wasn't going to happen.

The School as interesting enough. At least, during the parts where they were doing the fighting themselves. There was something to be said for fighting as an incredibly small unit, doing hit-and-run missions that would weaken a much larger enemy's capabilities and morale. It was kinda fun.

But then the other part started.

Percy was ready to pull his hair out within 3 weeks. It was absolutely maddening. How were these people he was supposed to be teaching, not getting it? It was not. That. Hard!

Because they were all training their own groups individually, Percy had no idea how anyone else - namely, Pricela and Moril - were doing, but he had to imagine it was better than this.

Why did they insist on screaming like banshees every time they fired their weapons? Why did they insist on spray-and-pray shooting from the hip? What was wrong with lifting your weapon to look down the sights, and then taking a single, well-aimed, shot? Was even that maddeningly basic building block of marksmanship beyond them?

Percy had been so confident coming into this. He'd had visions of training an elite unit of hunter-killers to assassinate high-ranking targets, and disable critical infrastructure, and then simply fade away into non-being. He'd pictured a small subsection of highly-trained snipers, whom he would teach to eliminate targets at great distances, while entrenched in a camouflaged position a mile away.

Was that too damn much to ask for?

Yes, evidently, it was.

It was a minor miracle that Percy's little unit hadn't all killed each other by now. There was, surely, some divine intervention at play here. It was an even bigger miracle that Percy hadn't killed them all himself, too.

And trying to teach them how to acquire important targets worth their focus? Forget it. Not happening. No sir. They just saw enemy soldiers and ran at them.

The training assignment was for 2 months, and Percy was counting down the days until it was over, and he'd go ranting and raving to Pricela and Moril. Whenever something particularly dumfounding happened, Percy would take a deep breath, and mentally compose the speech he would give his two colleagues when he saw them again. He was going to make them painfully aware of what he had just gone through with these helpless, hopeless, amatuers.

But eventually, the assignment did end, and Percy's unit of guerillas had struck enough targets to qualify a passing grade. Barely. When the Guerilla School Instructor had entered their tiny little jungle camp to tell Percy he was done, he'd been so happy he almost hugged the poor guy.

When Percy got back to the main School building, and saw Pricela and Moril just coming back from their own assignments, they all just marched right at each other, and hugged fiercely. Clearly, they had all been through similarly shitty experiences.

"Fucking shit, you both stink," Percy said as soon as he gathered the will to pull away.

They laughed, and told him he did too, which was a lie. Percy knew for a fact that he didn't stink. As a son of the sea god, he had made sure he was perfectly clean, by drawing moisture from the air and bathing himself. Pricela and Moril hadn't had that opportunity.

But when they went for showers, Percy did too. There was a difference between washing himself with water he had just summoned, and actually taking a shower. It may not had been a practical difference, but there still was one.

After the atrocity that was Guerilla School, they moved on to Spy School. Just as Pricela had with Assassin School, Moril sat it out. He went back to Perstompa for a few years of drills.

Spy School was interesting stuff too, though Percy could clearly see what Sara meant after Air Force School, when she'd told him it would be far more basic. It wasn't that the stuff they were doing there was much less impressive, or anything like that. The material was kind of similar, basically. It's just that they'd learned to do all that stuff to a much higher standard in OTC Phase 1. Like the passing grade was much higher there, than it was here.

It had been the same way in Infantry School. It wasn't that the material was so much easier in the Schools than OTC, it was the method of instruction that was so different. The Spec Ops Instructors had been relentless in teaching them all exactly what they would need to know, and making sure they knew the material like the backs of their hands.

But in the actual Schools for these things, they learned far more irrelevant details that wouldn't make a difference to anything, and they didn't learn the actual important stuff nearly as well as a result. It was kind of bemusing to Percy, who had never been through a School except as a Spec Ops candidate. He imagined he might feel differently if he'd been to one of the Branches before putting in for Selection. But he hadn't, so this was how he felt.

But the upside to knowing all the important stuff beforehand, was that Percy could spend his time in Spy School having fun. For 2 solid years, he felt like James Bond incarnate. While he would deny it to Pricela, and later to Moril when Pricela tried to tell him, Percy spent a good amount of time sneaking off to the local bar - which he had started looking for at each school they went to, ever since Sara had told him about the one on Kennegmagogia - and practiced ordering martinis. This led to him getting quite drunk, but that was fine. He couldn't wait to get back to earth and say the words 'Shaken, not stirred' to some barkeeper who would almost certainly roll his eyes in response. Percy found he preferred his martinis stirred, not shaken, but that somehow felt far less cool, so he would ask for them shaken.

Next up, was Engineering School, which Percy took quite an interest in. He had once, what felt like several lifetimes ago, considered studying engineering at the University of New Rome, while Annabeth got her degree in architecture. It was just maths and physics, with a little chemistry sprinkled in every now and then. All subjects that came to Percy fairly easily.

After reuniting with Moril after Spy School, they were hustled on to a dropship which, true to its name, dropped them off at Engineering School. As with all the others, the head Instructor of the entire School greeted them, told them that he didn't care that they were Spec Ops, and would play by his rule, or face the consequences. Percy wondered if anone had told this guy that his School was the 7th in their circuit, and each of his opposite numbers over there had given them the exact same speech, with a slight variety of words. Percy suspected that he had no idea, and was perfectly happy with that.

Engineering School lasted 4 entire years, and Percy found it relatively interesting. Finally, they were doing tuff that they just flat-out hadn't done anywhere else. There had been a few mentions of engineering concepts in Infantry School, but that had been just the absolute basics that might be necessary in the field.

Because Chaos' Corp of Engineers found themselves working as Combat Engineers relatively often, they spent a few weeks going over marksmanship, and tactical moving. It was really nothing very impressive, and Percy found himself worrying about the poor engineer who had to go into a warzone with nothing but that under his belt. Well, Basic too, he supposed.

But the bulk of their tutelage went into the engineering itself. Chaos' Corp of Engineers was considered an auxiliary force, just like the Logistics Support Corp. That meant that they were rarely if ever deployed anywhere in their own. There just wasn't that much point. Sure, every now and then, a few engineers would be sent out to assist some struggling planet build themselves up after a critical attack, but that didn't happen too often. The bulk of their job, would be assisting a larger combat force. They would construct roads or bridges that could support the weight of tanks weighing dozens of tons. Or, they would dig ditches and foxholes that would make it impossible for a tank to cross a certain point. They fortified defensive zones by building heavy walls, sometimes while under direct fire. Damn heroes.

They even had an elite unit, who could parachut into an enemy stronghold and cripple their defences for an incoming raid by the Infantry or Cavalry. It was cool stuff.

Unfortunately, learning about it was kind of boring. It was so many equations, each of which spanned multiple pages in Percy's notebook. It wasn't exactly difficult, but it was certainly tedious. Painfully so.

One night, around a year in, Priela hurled her notebook across the room and pronounced herself done studying for the night. Percy and Moril got the message, closed their own notebooks, and they all went to the gym together for a few hours.

But despite Pricela cutting into their collective studying time, they all passed the course with good enough grades. None of them passed top of the class, but Percy was third, and Moril was fifth. Pricela just called them nerds and crossed her arms in frustration at not being in the top 5.

And then came the School that Percy thought would be the most boring of them all. Not the worst School - that honor rested with Guerilla School - just the least interesting one. Logistics Support School.

It was a 5-year course, by the end of which, Percy would know all kinds of answers he didn't want to know, to questions he didn't ever want to think about. How much fuel did a Class-C mothership take to fly from the Sunflower Galaxy to the Cigar Galaxy? Percy knew the answer to that painfully boring question. How much food would a standard Infantry Division go through in a month? Percy knew. How many forms did a Chaos' Corp of Engineers engineer need to go through, if he or she wanted a new hammer? Percy could answer that question. It was 3. 3 forms to go through, for a new goddsdamn hammer. What the fuck was going on here? And if that engineer wanted a new power tool? Fucking forget it. 8 forms! You could make your own damn power tool in the time it took to go through all that bullshit.

Did the Infantry Soldier want a new rifle? Well, what was wrong with the old one? Just use the one you have, until it breaks. Then you can have a new one. If it breaks during a firefight? Then I suppose I'll have egg on my face, won't I? Fucking unbearable.

Not for the first time since seeing how the rest of the Army functions, Percy was innexpressably glad to have been funelled straight into Spec Ops. There was no bullshit like that over there. As was the case with most militaries on Earth, if the Tip of the Spear unit wanted something, they pretty much got it. New rifles, new attachments, different kinds of ammo, whatever. Whatever was neccesary to keep them working as efficiently as possible.

But now, to Percy, Pricela, and Moril's true and immense happiness, the Schools were over. They had completed what they considered OTC Phase 2, and now could return to Perstompa to continue training with the cream of the crop. The absolute best of the best. Fan-fucking-tastic.

It would suck to return to Perstompa, where the gravity was so much harsher, but they had gotten used to it the first time, they would again.

The dropship came for them, ferried them to the mothership, which flew them to Perstompa.

"That's 10,000 gallons of fuel," Pricela whispered to Percy, just to annoy him.

And it worked. Percy could feel his teeth grinding, as he resolutely stared straight ahead at the cold steel wall of the dropship taking them down to Perstompa.

The moment they stepped off, they felt it again. The crushing weight against the spine and the neck. The feeling of their feet sinking into the dirt with each step. It was just as harsh. But being prepared for it was a big help, so none of them collapsed onto the ground as they had when they'd first shown up for Selection. Plus, Percy figured, they were a lot stronger now than they had been then.

"Hey, it's the Most Improved Recruit and his two sidekicks!" their lead Instructor greeted them with an ear-to-ear grin.

Percy's jaw dropped. Literally. It fell open at this.

'Is this a fucking scarlet letter situation? What the fuck?'

Seeing his dismayed face, and seemingly taking pity on him, the Instructor just huffed out a laugh and told them to follow him.

Percy was intimately aware of the other two snickering beside him as they walked behind the Instructor.

"What's worse? Being a dumbass, or being the dumbass' sidekicks?" he asked them sharply.

He sensed bother their faces swivel around to him and glare, but he was smiling now and he didn't particularly care what they did.

The Instructor led them to the parade ground where they had so many horrific memories from Selection, and addressed them there.

"Congratulations on passing OTC Phase 2, guys. OTC Phase 3 starts tomorrow. Have you all chosen your 4 Branches?"

"Yes, sir," they all replied.

"Alright then. We can get into that tomorrow. For now, go back to your barracks rooms and relax for a while. You'll be in the same ones as before, so I hope you remember your way around. Tomorrow at 06:30."

And with that, he walked away, leaving the three Spec Ops candidates to it.

Percy turned to the other two.

"So, you guys know what you're going for?"

"Yep," Pricela nodded, "Why don't we go back to my room and talk it over."

So, they went.

Pricela's barracks room was identical to Percy's, though he wasn't really expecting there to be any differences. She was hardly the type for interior decorating, and there wasn't exactly a furniture store on Perstompa. At least, not that Percy had found. He may well be wrong. It didn't seem likely though.

Percy sat on a chair facing the bed, which was where Pricela sat. Moril perched himself on the window sill, looking small and tidy. Percy, in contrast, felt uncmofortable in the chair, which seemed specifically designed to be too small for him. He shuffled awkwardly.

"Pricela, seriously, did you shrink your damn furniture?"

She snorted, "Just because you're the size of a jungle tree, doesn't mean you get to talk shit about my furniture."

Moril grinned from his window, "Yeah, if only you were able to make yourself smaller at will. That'd be great, wouldn't it?"

Percy crossed his arms and scowled.

It was a source of tremendous amusement for the other two, that Percy still hadn't received Chaos' 4th blessing, and thus stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he meant. Moril was from Spy Branch, and Pricela was from Assassin Branch; two professions that demanded the ability to blend in. They were both tailor made for such a thing. Percy felt like if he saw either of them on the street randomly, he wouldn't remember them at all. That was the epitome of brilliance for a covert spy or assassin. But Percy did not have such an advantage.

"So, what Branches are you guys going for?" Pricela asked with a pointed smile, letting him know that she was doing him a tremendous favor by changing the subject.

"Well, Soldier Branch, obviously," Moril said

"Has there ever been a Spec Ops candidate that hasn't gone for Soldier Branch?" Percy asked.

"I doubt it," Pricela told him, "Spec Ops is kind of like an extension of Soldier Branch anyway. Most Selection candidates come from there. And Soldier Branch jobs basically make up the majority of Spec Ops jobs. So, Soldier Branch. What else?"

"Not Logistics Support," Percy said with a hardly exaggerated shudder.

Pricela giggled, "Has there ever been a Spec Ops candidate that has gone for Logistics Support?"

"I sincerely doubt it, but there might be one or two," Moril said with a calm smile.

"Shit, imagine the look on the Instructors' faces when that candidate tells them they want to go do logistics. Like, 'I'm sorry, 4 months of Selection, 24 years in OTC Phase 1, 39 years in OTC Phase 2, and several more decades in OTC Phase 3 to turn you into a killing machine, and you want to go push papers?'."

Pricela and Moril laughed.

"Well, I'm going to go for Assassin Branch, it being my alma mater and all. Moril, I assume you'll be going for Spy Branch?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll probably do Assassin too."

"Ohh, you're sweet."

They spent some time discussing it before arriving at their conclusions.

Pricela would go for Soldier, Assassin, Spy, and Undercover.

Moril would go for Soldier, Spy, Assassin, and Guerilla, which shocked Percy and Pricela beyond words. Apparently, he had actually enjoyed it somehow.

Percy, as he had though, went for Soldier, Assassin, and Spy. But the 4th option took a moment of thought. Right off the bat, Logistics Support, Engineering, and Guerilla were all out. They simply were not for him. He considered Undercover work, but only briefly. He didn't see himself enjoying that one particularly.

That just left the Enforcer Branch.

Enforcer Branch. Basically an intergalactic cop. That could be pretty interesting. And it would certainly give him the chance to do some real good. Hunting down murderes and terrorists would be pretty fulfilling.

The next day, the three Spec Ops candidates reported to the parade ground, just like they were supposed to, at 06:30, exactly as they were told. The Instructor who'd spoke to them yesterday seemed amused.

"Glad you haven't forgotten how to be on time. I know some of those Schools were tedious and all, but you got through them, and that's all that matters. Now, lets hear your Branch choices so we can get started."

They told him.

"Ok, well the good news is, you've all got those 3 Branches in common. So, we're going to start with Soldier, then do Assassin, then Spy. After that, you'll have to do your 4th Branch training individually. Now, we assumed you'd all choose Soldier Branch, so that's what we're prepared to start with. Let's go down to the shooting house for a refresher, in case any of you have gotten rusty."

None of them were, in any way, rusty. That seemed to be the beauty of OTC Phase 1. Doing it so many thousands of times, over and over again, without break, had ingrained certain moves into their muscle memory. Percy felt pretty certain that he could go a hundred years without doing any CQB, and then pick right back up where he left off.

That being said, he was still impressed with Pricela and Moril. They seriously knew their stuff. Pricela with her speed and grace, and Moril with his total practicality and economy of movement. They just flowed through everything, in a manner Percy wished he could imitate. But he kept up well enough.

The rest of day 1 went similarly. They did plenty of stuff they had done before, and clearly the Instructor weren't trying to push them onwards and upwards, but rather making sure they were where they were supposed to be. And they were. They hadn't missed a beat since Phase 1.

The rest of the week was like that. Every possible skill to do with regular soldiering; CQB, combat patrols, raids, surveillance, and sniping were all tested. After that, they started feeling the push to do better. Instead of being told to simply clear the compound, now they were told to clear the compound in 'X amount of time or less' and they would go again and again until they made the time.

The difference in instruction was plainly obvious. The OTC Instructors were just so much better than anyone else Percy had seen in the other Schools. Not only were they extremely competent themselves, but they treated Percy and the others as if they were extremely competent too. There were no dismissive 'Just do it like this and shut up' comments that they had heard any time one of them dared to ask a question in any of the Phase 2 Schools. Each question was taken seriously, and answered properly.

Sara had told him that the job of an Instructor, is to make complicated concepts easy to understand. Now that he was surrounded by great Instructors again, that little fact was blatantly obvious. Percy almost felt like he was learning just by osmosis. Their mere presence was making him better.

And that feeling continued. For the next 10 years, the Instructors put the Spec Ops candidates through their paces, making them the best killing machines they could possibly be. And that was just Soldier Branch training.

After Soldier Branch finished, they moved on to Assassin Branch training. Something interesting happened right before they started training.

Chaos showed up.

The moment they saw her, the Instructors, the candidates, and Percy, all dropped into a bow. Chaos raised an amused eyebrow at Percy, and he just winked in reply.

"Lady Chaos, how may we serve?" asked the lead Instructor, head bowed in respect.

"I'm here to give Percy my 4th blessing. I'm fairly certain he's ready for it, and I imagine it will help with his training a lot. You're about to start Assassin training, I believe?"

"Yes, my lady, of course."

Chaos nodded.

"Percy," she said in greeting, "Why don't we do this in your barracks room?"

"Of course, Lady Chaos."

"Excellent. Lead the way then," she said before turning back to the lead Instructor, "I'll have him back when he wakes up."

That did not ease Percy's nerves about the whole thing.

Moril and Pricela both told him that changing shape was a deeply uncomfortable affair. Chaos had told him the same thing the first time they'd met, but she'd also admitted that she didn't really know.

Percy led Chaos to his room, opened the door, and stood aside to let her in first. She smiled, and walked in, and Percy closed the door behind him. He turned to see Chaos beaming at him. He couldn't help but beam right back at her.

Then she surprised him. She took a quick step forwards, and hugged him tightly.

Percy was surprised by how much he liked it. It was one of the best hugs he'd ever been on the receiving end of. Chaos was incredibly warm and soft. It was like hugging a memory foam pillow with a hot water bottle in it.

Eventually, she pulled away and looked at him fondly.

"Percy, I am so proud of you. You've done so well."

He smiled shakily, suddenly feeling kind of emotional. Sometimes it just felt good to be told you were doing a good job.

"Thanks, Chaos."

She smiled again, "Well, I'm glad we dispensed with all that 'Lady' crap so soon."

He huffed out a laugh.

"Come on, we both know you're no lady."

She laughed and sat down on his bed.

"What do you think so far?" Chaos asked.

"Overall, it's been interesting. Selection was hell, but I'm sure you know that. OTC has been going pretty well too. The Schools were a bit of a drag, but I see why it was important we went. And all the extra training we've had so far since coming back, has been really good."

Chaos nodded, "And what do you think of your cohorts?"

"Pricela and Moril? I love them. Pricela's like another sister, and Moril is like another brother. As in, Jason and Frank, not Jack, to be very clear."

Chaos smiled and nodded again, then waited for him to speak again.

"Am I going to see them again? After OTC? I know you said your Operators usually work alone, aside from what we're going to try with me and Sara, but is this really it? We've gone through all this, and now we're done with each other?"

Chaos laughed again, "Oh, Percy, I swear. Of course you'll see them again. I doubt you'll work together very often, if it all, but you can see each other as much as you wish in your off time."

Percy blinked, "We get off time?"

Chaos looked at him like he was insane, "Of course you'll get time off, Percy. Shit, what do you think I am; a slave runner? All of my Operators get an apartment in My Realm, as you should know from Sara. That's where you'll live. You'll go wherever you need to for operations, and then come back to your own apartment."

Percy stared at her, and nodded slightly, "That… well, that makes sense."

"Of course it makes sense. And anyway, you get scheduled time off as well. I found out a long time ago, that Operators will burn out if they're worked too hard. So, you have to take some time off regularly. It's mandated. You take at least one year off every 50 you work. All in one go, or a few weeks here and there. As long as it adds up to a year every half-century."

"Huh. Somehow I never really thought about stuff like that. I just kind of assumed that it was a go-go-go situation."

"It can be. There'll be times when you're so tired you can hardly move. That's the job. But you need to take some time away every now and then, or you'll go crazy."

Percy said nothing, and silently processed that.

"How's Hazel?" he asked, changing the subject.

Chaos smiled, and let him.

"She's good. Just passed the 110th year milestone. That's a big one. She's on schedule to graduate at 200 years, which is to say she's doing excellently."

"She's been training for 110 years?" Percy asked, kind of surprised.

Chaos smiled softly, "Time really does go by, huh?"

"Shit, I guess. It doesn't feel that long."

Chaos shrugged, "You've been having fun with Pricela and Moril. Time flies if you don't watch it carefully. Before you know it, you'll be a thousand years old, wondering where it all went."

"Estelle is dead."

Chaos went silent for a few seconds.

"Yes, she is. A few decades ago. She lived to be 96, and had 3 kids, and a husband who adored her. She was happy."

Percy didn't know what to do with that. His sister - his younger sister - had died of old age, and he hadn't aged since he was 20.

"You'll be happy to know that Artemis kept her word to you. She looked after Estelle over the years. And when Estelle started seeing her husband-to-be, Artemis asked Morpheus for a favor. She invaded his dreams one night as he slept, and told him that 'ancient spirits' would be 'most displeased' if he ever hurt Estelle. He was a superstitious man, Estelle's husband. Treated her like a princess for the rest of their lives."

Percy smiled softly. That had actually cheered him up a little.

"I'll have to thank her when I see her again. Any idea when that'll be?"

Chaos smiled patiently, "Sorry. No idea."

"You really haven't picked up on anything new?"

She shrugged, "It's hardly an exact science, Percy. It'll happen when it happens. The best thing we can do in the mean time, is prepare for what's coming."

Percy's jaw clenched without him telling it do so. This was decidedly not his style. He preferred to get right into the action, where he could be most effective. Waiting around for someone else, did not sit right with him.

Chaos put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know what you're thinking. But I mean it, Percy, there's nothing to do right now. Just make sure you're ready for when it happens."

He sighed, but didn't argue the point. After hearing about Estelle, and wondering exactly how much had changed on Earth since his absence, he was feeling suddenly drained. He wanted to be back there. But at this pace, he still had decades of OTC ahead of him, so it would be a long wait.

Wait. What was he thinking? Why did OTC matter? He wouldn't be going back to Earth until the war. Right?

"Chaos? You said every Operator gets a year of leave every 50, right?"

Chaos smiled again, this time knowingly. Like she already knew exactly what he was about to say, but was doing him the courtesy of letting him actually say it.

"Yes, that's right."

"So… so could I take that time on Earth, if I wanted to?"

She nodded, as if he had just confirmed exactly what she had expected.

"If you so chose, you could. I'm not sure if I'd advise it, but you could."

"Why not?"

"Percy, I know how hard it was for you to leave last time. Are you sure you'd want to go through that again? I believe it'll just make things harder for you."

Percy sat for a moment, digesting.

True, it would be hard. Leaving his friends and family voluntarily, had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Did he want to put himself through that again?

Then he thought of his father, and the parting words he'd offered. He tried to imagine the feeling of having a son, and not knowing where he was, or what he was doing, beyond the fact that it was incredibly dangerous. He thought of his friends, who were in a similar situation. And the last time he'd seen them, he had dragged Hazel off with him. They had no idea where she was, or even if she was alive or dead.

Surely it would be selfish to have the option to see them, but choose not to? To leave them to wonder about him and Hazel potentially for centuries.

"You don't have to make a decision now. You'll have a few weeks off after you finish OTC, to let your body recover a little, and then you'll be operational. Then you can save up your year's leave, and then decide. I won't push you either way, you have my word. I just want what's best for you."

Percy stayed quiet for a second.

"I know you do. Thank you, I appreciate it."

Chaos nodded quietly, then cleared her throat.

"Well, speaking of things that are good for you, how about we get along with this blessing business."

"Yeah, sure. Now, what you say good for me, exactly how am I going to react to this? You implied that I'd pass out."

Chaos tried for a reassuring smile, "You know, maybe it's better you don't know."

Percy was about to say, 'Well, I disagree'. But then Chaos tapped him on the forehead, and he felt some of the most intense pain he'd ever known in his life. And that was saying something.

It was like every cell in his body was simultaneously being stretched and compressed. Like shadow traveling for the first time, while also being on Krusty's waterbed, limbs tied down and being dragged in opposite directions. It was agony untold.

And true to Chaos' expectations, he passed out. Reacting predictably, was probably the worst part of it all.

—-

Some indeterminate amount of time later, his eyes flicked open, and then instantly closed again. He let out a pitiful groan, and felt a hand on his shoulder. The hand was soft. Gentle.

"Percy? You ok?"

The sound was coming from… somewhere. He couldn't figure out where, exactly. Was it nearby? Or maybe it was somewhere far away. There was a slight echo to it. Where they in a big room?

And who, or what, was this Percy? Was it like a purse of some kind? Why was this mysterious voice worried about its purse, when he was right there, in obvious distress?

Suddenly, something cold and wet was splashing into him. Could this day get any worse?

But no, no the cold wet stuff was helping him. It felt like it, at least. His brain started to feel sharper. Was that a word that could be used to describe brains? Sharp? They didn't exactly look pointy. Or maybe that was some kind of myth, and people's actual brains were all poky?

"Brains aren't poky, you're just delirious," that same voice said.

Was this voice person thing, a damn mind-reader? Was it even possible to read minds, if brains were poky? He didn't think so.

"Oh, sweet mercy, you really are out of it."

Who's Mercy? What do they have to do with it?

—-

Some more time later, Percy woke up. He knew he was Percy, so he considered that a good first step. He opened his eyes, and managed to keep them open, which was probably a pretty good second step. He saw Chaos sitting on his bed, smirking at him. He groaned.

"Well well. Conspiracy theorist extraordinaire, Percy Jackson, you're finally awake."

"Conspiracy theorist extraordinaire?" he echoed, rubbing his forehead as if that would fix anything.

"Oh yeah. You don't remember? You really questioned our trust of science when you woke up earlier. The 'Brainious Pokus' theory, the experts are calling it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She just laughed

Now that she mentioned it…

"Oh, godsssss," he groaned, closing his eyes again.

"Oh yesss."

"Your impression of a snake isn't going to change the fact that I deny all of that."

"Deny all you want. I've got video."

Now, his eyes opened again.

"You do not."

She just smiled, looking impressively evil.

"Anyway, how do you feel?"

Percy paused, and thought about the question. It really should have been a simple one. How did he feel? Well, he felt… Hm.

"Different," he said hesitantly.

She nodded in a 'go on' gesture.

"I feel weirdly flexible, I guess. Like someone snuck in and replaced my muscles with elastic, or the type of material they make yoga pants from."

She smiled amusedly.

"Well, that's certainly a unique description."

"I strive to amaze. How long was I out?"

"A few hours. Do you want to try changing?"

He was about to ask what she wanted him to change into, when he realised she meant shapeshifting.

"Ok… How?"

"Well, from what I understand, you have to visualise the change in as much detail as possible, and then try to force it to happen. Just don't rush it, or it'll be worse."

Percy thought for a second. He figured he'd try to adjust his height, since that was what he would do most often. He tried to picture his spine, and visualised it compressing down into itself. Then he saw his muscles and bones shrink and adjust accordingly. Chaos had once told him that you couldn't change your height by more than 4 inches in either direction, so he focused on shrinking by just 2.

When he could see it firmly in his mind, he clenched his teeth and stomach, and tried to make it happen through sheer force of will. Nothing happened. He tried for another minute, looking more and more like a constipated penguin, he was sure, until he gave up with a pant of exertion.

"Are you sure you did it right?" he asked her.

Chaos, the creator of the universe, raised a slender eyebrow at him.

"Am I sure that I did it right?"

Percy realised that maybe this wasn't the wisest avenue to go down, so he just focused again, and tried to make it happen.

Then, he felt something. Something truly horrible. He felt like his spine was about to snap in half, and all his bones were being ground down into dust. His muscles were straining like they were about to snap through sheer tension. His skull got impossibly tight, like it was crushing his brain inside it. His eyeballs felt like they were going to explode right there in his head, if they didn't pop out first.

He opened his eyes, and saw Chaos looking at him intently. Was she a little taller than usual? No. No, he was shorter. He'd done it. But fuck, this was horrible.

The transformation required constant effort. It was like picking up an incredibly heavy weight, and holding it directly over his head. If he put it down, the transformation would reverse, and he would go back to normal. And he did let it go. It was unbearable.

His spine decompressed, and bones and muscles reverted to normal. He was gasping for breath, and sweat clung to his body like cling film.

"Is it always like that?" he asked between pants.

"From what I'm told, yes."

"That was fucking horrible!"

"Yes, it's always sounded rather unpleasant."

"Rather unpleasant?" he demanded.

"Yes," Chaos said mildly.

"Am I supposed to do that again?"

"You're supposed to do it as many times as you need, until it doesn't feel like that anymore."

Percy paused, thinking about that. She sounded far away. His body was still recovering from the sudden compression.

"So… so if I do it enough, it won't hurt like that anymore?"

"Oh, no, of course not. From what I understand, it will always feel like it just did. But apparently, you get used to it eventually."

"Oh, wonderful. You know, I remember when you first told me about this. It sounded awesome."

She chuckled.

"Yes, it was funny to see the excitement on your face. Like putting a leash on a dog, and it thinks it's going for a walk, but you're actually taking it to the vet."

"None taken," Percy muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing. Shall I try again."

She made a 'Knock yourself out' gesture with her hand.

Percy screwed his face up, and focused on something different. This time, he visualised his eyes changing color. Maybe altering his entire body, had been too much too fast. Changing his eye color, would be far easier, right?

He visualised the change, and then forced it to happen.

Instantly, it felt like someone had poured hot lava directly onto his irises.

"Ohhh, brown, it suits you."

Percy dropped the metaphorical weight, and let his eyes revert to their normal color. He didn't tell Chaos that he'd been trying to make them blue.

"That's awful."

"Well, you know what they say, practice, practice, practice."

"Yeah, sure. It's like practicing getting kicked in the nuts."

"Yes, I've heard that can be quite awful too," she said conversationally.

He sighed, and remembered that he was talking to the oldest being in existence. There was a certain aspect to immortal beings, that had confused Percy somewhat in his younger years, but he understood it now that he was older. They just didn't see the world the same way as other people. For one thing, they had simply been alive for too long to understand certain things. But for another, they just didn't experience some things in the same way as others. Chaos had been alive for billions of years, and she was undoubtedly the most powerful being to have ever lived. She didn't know what it was like to be kicked in the nuts. She didn't know what it was like, to be in pain. Not real pain. There had never been anyone capable of inflicting it.

Percy wondered if he was going to become that way himself. Certainly not to the extent of Chaos. She had far too much of a headstart on him, and had never been mortal to begin with. But all the same, he was now an immortal being. His younger sister, had just died of old age. That was a weird fucking feeling. And what was even weirder, he'd just been in training, for longer than most people on Earth would ever live. And he hadn't even realised it until Chaos had pointed it out to him.

Was this how life was going to be, going forward? Was he going to blink, and suddenly be celebrating his 500th birthday? And what about his friends back home? They had partial immortality, but they were still mostly mortal. They didn't have the powers or training he'd had from Chaos. Any one of them could drop dead any day from a stray bullet, or someone could come up behind them in an alley and beat them to death with a fucking brick. Life wasn't fair. What if something like that happened, and Percy didn't find out about it until decades later?

"Percy, you ok?"

He came hurtling back to Earth. Or, rather, Perstompa.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

"You were getting that look in your eye."

"Look?"

"The look all my operators get at one point or another. When they realise that they aren't exactly mortal anymore. It can be a pretty huge deal."

Percy stared at her for a second.

"How do the rest of them deal with it?"

Chaos smiled sadly, "I'm not sure any of them ever do."

Percy thought about that. There was nothing but silence for nearly a minute.

"Alright, I think you should go back to your training. You're starting Assassin Branch stuff today, right? That should be pretty exciting."

"Yeah, yeah I'll go catch up. Great seeing you again."

She gave him a reassuring smile, a tender hug, and then she just vanished. Chaos didn't teleport like anyone he had ever seen before. She didn't flash like the Olympians, or shadow travel like he did. The air just seemed to fold in around her, and then she'd vanished. There one microsecond, and gone the next.

With a deep sigh, Percy left his barracks room, and went to find Pricela and Moril.

—-

As Chaos had told the Instructors when she'd first arrived, her 4th blessing was incredibly useful during Assassin training. Blending into a crowd, had never been easier. And it made infiltrating populated targets a joke. But changing was a deeply uncomfortable afair, to say the least, which limited his possibilities. Or at least, it did at first.

Once Pricela and Moril saw how much he hated shifting, they dedicated every hour of free time they had, to coaching him through it. Only, there wasn't much coaching involved. They just figuratively held his hand, as he shifted over and over again. They'd spend a whole evening, practicing changing his eye color, and trying to see how long he could keep it changed.

Somehow, it was worse than Selection. It was just sheer agony.

But Chaos seemed to have a point. He was going to have to start listening to her one of these days. The more he shifted, the easier it became. And she was also right in telling him that it never became less painful, but the pain became more manageable.

Once Pricela explained that pain was inevitable, but the suffering was optional, he started to get it. He was going to be in agony every time he shifted, and that was just a fact. But he didn't have to suffer for it. What was a little pain, at the end of the day? He learned to set it aside, and focus on other things. He would never be unaware of it, but there was no reason to let it govern him.

After that, it was almost easy.

Assassin training in OTC Phase 3, took around 15 years. Then they did Spy Branch training, for another 12.

Spy Branch training, was different than what most people might expect. Especially at such high levels. The main function of a spy, is the same as the main function of a used car salesman. You're convincing people to do something, they don't really want to do. For a used car salesman, it's a shitty car. For a spy, it's treason. A spy's job is to convince a person that has access to certain information or technology, to betray their country or organisation, and provide intelligence. That can either be done covertly, or overtly. Covertly, means that the person giving the intelligence, doesn't even realise they're doing it. This can be achieved by planting bugs on them, or having them reveal information they don't think is particularly meaningful, without realising the scope of what they're doing. The overt way, was to let them know exactly what you wanted, and persuade, bribe, or blackmail them into handing it over. Percy was more of a fan of the overt way. It was just easier.

That was the main job of a spy, but they needed other skills too. One of the more interesting parts of their time in Spy training, was defensive/offensive driving. They'd spent some time learning it in Mobility School during OTC Phase 2, but this was on another level. And it was pretty damn fun. There was also a little rudimentary firearms training, some hand-to-hand stuff, and a fair amount of surveillance instruction too.

And then Percy did another 10 years of training alone, for Enforcer Branch.

At Percy's intense and urgent request, they didn't do much in the way of forensics training. He told them he was never going to use it, no matter what, so there was really no point. The Instructors had laughed, and agreed. So, they spent most of their time working on investigation and criminal apprehension.

Thankfully, the Enforcer training was still held on Perstompa, and so was Guerilla training for Moril, and Undercover training for Pricela. They even had the same schedules. So even though they couldn't train together anymore, they could still spend their down time in each others' presence, which was something at least. After 4 months of Selection and 100 years of OTC - yes, he did the math - he kind of couldn't imagine living his life without the pair of them. It was weird enough just training without them.

But he managed, and so did they. By the end of it, Percy just felt different. He wasn't sure he'd be able to put it into words. He just felt dangerous. But there was a certain clarity that came with that, and a sense of calm. Percy was a dangerous weapon now. It was his own responsibility that he used himself well. No, that didn't sound right.

They all graduated OTC together, after a total of 110 years. They told them, assembled in the parade ground where they had stood on the very first day of Selection. Or rather, the very first day of the pre-Selection screening process. The lead Instructor for their class stood up on the podium. The giant bulleting board that had been the all throughout Selection, bearing the numbers of all those who failed, had been brought back. Percy knew without counting, - and he certainly wasn't going to count - that Sengari's number had been added to it.

"6394 began. And today, you three finish. I have just two words for you. Well… done!"

Percy, Pricela, and Moril were so excited, they were vibrating as they stood. But they had just been told that they had made it. They weren't about to make a shitty first impression by bouncing and screaming and jumping around like idiots.

The Instructor stared at them, then made a 'Ah, go on' motion with his hand.

Percy, Pricela and Moril bounced and screamed and jumped like idiots.

Pricela was crying, and Percy was right there with her. Moril held strong a little more than them, but the other two could see the tears welling up in his eyes. They hugged and kissed and cried for a few minutes.

Then, eventually, they regained their composure. They wiped the tears away, and controlled their breathing. The Instructor was still on the podium, looking down at them. He was smiling, which even in OTC was kind of rare. They only showed signs of life when something they found truly funny happened. Like, for instance, Percy getting the 'Most Improved Recruit' award. There had been plenty of jokes about that.

"Come on, let's get you back to Chaos' Realm."

They filed onto a dropship, which took them to a mothership, which took them to Chaos' Realm. The journey was not boring. The last time Percy had made that journey, it had been when he was going to start Selection. More than a century ago. Back then, it had been Percy and 4 other candidates. None of the others had made it. They'd all washed out at some point or another. He'd stopped keeping track of them within a week of Selection starting.

Back then, they hadn't spoken a word to each other for the entire journey, which lasted nearly 14 hours. Not a single word. But not anymore. Maybe under normal circumstances, Percy, Pricela, and Moril would have been more reserved during transport. But in celebration of their passing OTC, the Instructors with them showed them a hidden bar on the ship, where they partied like there was no tomorrow. They got so wasted, Percy wasn't sure if he'd ever recover.

But, sure enough, he did. They went to the bunks and got some sleep a couple hours before they were scheduled to arrive, and after an hour-and-a-half of sleep, Percy woke up feeling incredibly hungover. A cold shower, a quick trip to the canteen, and a lot of coffee later, he was right as rain when it came time to disembark.

The Instructors, or rather, their former Instructors, led the three of them to their new apartments in the city. Percy noted that it was fairly close to Sara's place. He very nearly mentioned this fact, but thought better of it at the last moment.

Percy, Pricela, and Moril ended up having apartments on the same floor, whether by luck or planning, Percy didn't know, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. Their former Instructors explained that the apartments for Spec Ops Operators came with a few interesting features. They were completely soundproofed, and sealed in such a way that even with their enhanced senses, no one would be able to tell what was going on inside. It was important for the sake of privacy. Because of that, there was a grid of lights on the ground floor, with an apartment number above each one. If the Operator living in any given apartment was in Chaos' Realm, the corresponding light would be on. If that Operator was away on a job, their apartment light would be off. An easy way for fellow Operators to check if their friend was home.

Almost as soon as Percy closed the door to his apartment, he heard a knock. He took two steps back towards the door, and opened it again. It was Pricela.

"You wanna go hunting for the bar?"

Moril was with her, looking strangely excited. Percy had known the guy to steal beer occasionally, but he wasn't the type to become visibly excited at the prospect of going to a bar.

"Christ, Pric, even after the ride here, you're already jonesing for more?"

Pricela rolled her eyes, "It's not about the drinking, you dolt."

"Then what is it about, pray tell?"

"It's about the fact that we can go to The Bar! Fucking capitol T and B!"

"Oh, trust me, you don't want TB."

She blinked at him in confusion.

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, what's the big deal about some bar? There's plenty of them here."

Pricela rolled her eyes for the second time in this conversation, and turned to Moril.

"Has he been listening to a damn word I've said? Is it because I'm short? Do my words get lost somewhere between down here and up there?"

Moril smiled patiently, "Percy, we're not talking about going to some bar. There's a special bar here, specifically for Spec Ops Operators. We've both heard rumors about it for centuries, and now we want to go find it. Just because we're allowed in there now."

Percy's eyebrows came up an inch. Well, that sounded fun.

"Alright, let me just dump the bag and get changed. I reek of booze."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want you walking into a bar, smelling of booze," Pricela snarked.

Percy flipped her the bird. He had never explained to her what that meant on Earth, so she didn't react to it.

He closed the door, and found his new bedroom. Interestingly enough, it was a carbon copy of Sara's bedroom. Apparently Spec Ops Operators' apartments came furnished identically? Percy wondered if there was a furniture store in Chaos' Realm, where they could accessorise their places. He didn't really care, but he was idly curious.

He changed, despite what Pricela had said. In fact, he changed because of what Pricela said. To spite her. Yes, he was quite the rebel.

Once his bag was on safely deposited on the floor adjacent to his bed, and he was wearing the other outfit he owned - he made a quick mental note to buy some new stuff later - Percy was ready to go out. He closed the door behind him, and automatically went to lock it. Old habits died hard, he supposed. There wasn't even a lock on the door. There simply wasn't any point. Percy pittied the fool who'd try and rob one of those apartments.

The three newly christened Operators made their way down the building's stairs. They lived on the fourth floor, and there was no elevator. Why would there be? They made it to the second floor landing, when Percy spoke up.

"So, where's this bar?"

"No one knows," Moril said before Pricela could make one of her particular brand of comments, "The location itself is a secret. Even if someone from the regular Army finds the place, they can't get in. I think the owner knows every active service Operator, and he doesn't let anyone else in. It's supposed to have wards set up, to keep people from listening in on anything going on inside the bar. Apparently, the owner used to be an Operator himself, but decided to retire. Psychological issues, you know? Anyway, he remembered how annoying it was for him and his friends to always have to talk in code, just in case someone overheard them talking about something classified. So, he bought a bar, and asked Chaos to ward it, so no one can hear anything going on inside. She agreed, and he put the word out to former colleagues that that was the place to be. He's doing pretty well nowadays."

"Well, shit," Percy said.

Then something clicked in his mind. He did know a place like that. He had been there himself, over 15 decades ago. It had been the same day that he'd brought Hazel in, to start her training.

Making a quick mental note to go see Hazel and check on her, Percy said, "Guys, I actually think I know this place."

Pricela and Moril stopped in their tracks, right in the middle of the first-to-second floor staircase.

"What?" Pricela asked, sounding incredulous.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I've been there."

"You mean, Sara brought you once?"

"No no, nothing like that. She never even mentioned it. No, remember I told you guys that I went back home for a mission during basic, and brought a friend of mine to sign up? Well, Chaos told me to take the rest of the day off, so I just wandered around the city for a while. And I saw this place with all these guys with long hair and beards and stuff. I tried to listen in, but I couldn't hear anything. It really confused me at the time."

Pricela's eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"And you never mentioned that?!"

She accented the word 'mentioned' by swatting him on the arm.

"I dunno, it was a century-and-a-half ago. I've had other things on my mind since then."

Pricela shook her head, as if in utter disbelief.

"Percy, do you think you remember where it was?" Moril asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, it was a while ago, but I'm sure I could find it again."

"Alright then. Lead the way."

So, they left their new apartment building, and Percy led them to the place he remembered. At least, he tried to. It really had been a long time ago.

But he did get there eventually. In fact, it had only taken half an hour. Admittedly, the bar was a ten-minute walk away from their apartment building, but still. Half an hour to find a spot he had last visited 150 years ago, in a city he hadn't been to in over 110 years? Not too shabby. According to Percy, at least. Pricela was of a very different opinion.

They walked in, and immediately every head in the room turned to stare at them.

A big guy walked over to the, stopping a few feet away.

Perhaps 'big' wasn't the word for him. Monstrous, would have been better suited. Gigantic. Enormous. Mountain-sized. All better alternatives.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked in a flat voice. Not aggressive, exactly. But with a certain undertone of promised violence.

"Uhhh," came Pricela's lightning wit.

"We just graduated OTC," Percy said, assisting her.

Pricela and Moril nodded vigorously.

"Hmmm," said the mountain, sounding like an earthquake, "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

Percy looked around the bar, searching for one of their Instructors from Selection or OTC. He couldn't find any of them there.

"What's the '300 Test' in Selection?"

Which was a good question. The uninitiated may have said 'Oh, well, it's where you walk 300 miles non-stop'. Percy, Pricela, and Moril knew better.

"It's the test where you get 300 hours to walk a certain distance."

"What's the distance?"

"They don't tell you. You just have to get as far as you can in the time you get."

"And how far did each of you get?"

"They never told us," Pricela said.

Moril nodded in agreement.

"I made it 3000 miles, apparently."

Now every eye in the room, Pricela and Moril's included, was fixed directly upon him.

"Well, just how the hell do you know that? Your friends are right, they don't tell you."

"Uh, yeah, Percy, how do you know?" Moril asked quietly.

Percy shrugged, "Sara told me?"

The occupants of the bar, nearly fell off their chairs.

The mountain-man opened his mouth to speak, when he was suddenly struck dumb.

Percy felt a hand on his arm. A hand attached to a person whose presence he hadn't sensed. Turning quickly to see who it was, he saw Sara standing there, a soft smile on her face, looking up at him with pure joy in her eyes.

"They're good," she said softly.

For a second, Percy thought she was talking to him, and was deeply confused. Then he heard the mountain-man spluttering.

"Right, yes, of course, come right in."

So, Sara's name, and her presence even more so, seemed to open a few doors.

"Shall we get a table together?" Sara asked.

Pricela and Moril nodded vigorously, but didn't say anything.

They made their way over to an empty 4-person table, and took their seats.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order," Sara said with a bright smile.

Percy would swear for the rest of his life, that Pricela and Moril actually blushed beet-red at that.

But they didn't say anything.

Sara shot Percy a questioning look.

"I'm sorry, I swear they're usually more fun than this."

That seemed to snap Pricela out of it pretty well.

"Oh, the Most Improved Recruit is giving me sass now? Interesting."

Percy's jaw dropped.

"That was almost a fucking century ago, you cannot still be stuck on that."

"Still. Stuck," she said, intoning each word deliberately.

"Yeah, tough luck, sweetie, you're not getting rid of that any time soon," Sara told him, looking devilishly teasing.

"But surely it doesn't have that kind of staying power. I mean, it was one school, nearly a century ago, who cares?"

"No other Spec Ops candidate has ever been named Most Improved. It's going to stick with you, like it or not."

Suddenly, the mountain man appeared at their table, bearing a tray full of drinks. He set down each one carefully, and gave them a nervous smile. Percy barely recognised the guy. He looked like a teenager going over to his first crush to ask her out to the winter formal.

He almost bowed as he backed away.

"You know," Percy said, feigning a look of intense concentration, "I think he may like you, Sara."

"Well whatever makes you think that?"

"Because you're the prettiest one at the table. Except for Moril, of course," Percy said with a wink.

Moril made a weird weird twirling motion with his little finger, which Percy took to be his version of flipping the bird.

"Do I have a reason to be jealous?" Sara asked, sounding teasingly intrigued.

"If anyone has a reason to be jealous here, it's me," Pricela said, sounding affronted, "Moril is not better looking than I am. And yet it's like I'm not even here to you."

"Ah, what a pleasant thought."

Moril and Sara laughed as Pricela's scowl deepened.

"I'd watch what you drink from now on, if I was you."

Percy sipped his beer pointedly.

But it wasn't beer.

"Wow, what is this stuff?" he asked the table, but more to Sara than anyone else.

She didn't disappoint.

"It's Grandst. They drink it a lot over here. It's really common."

"Grandst? I like it."

"Good. Just be careful, 'cause that stuff gets you wasted way quicker than you'd expe-"

Percy had just drained his glass, and was staring at her in moderate alarm.

"Umm."

Sara snickered and ordered another round.

They spent the next few hours chatting easily about whatever came up. They got a bit drunk, but not like they had on the way back to Chaos' Realm. They were more pleasantly tipsy, than drunk. It was a good night.

Sara offered to walk them home once they were done for the evening. Percy found that interesting. He knew she lived nearby. Maybe this was common courtesy. Maybe she was just making sure they'd all be ok. He and her were old friends, after all. And she'd gotten along quite well with Pricela and Moril.

But she came all the way up to their floor. Percy was sure that wasn't necessary. He remembered Chaos telling them that they'd be allowed to work together and date freely. Did she remember that too? They'd had a night together right before he left for Selection. But that was a long time ago. Maybe she'd found someone else. A century was a long time to wait for some guy.

They waved goodnight to Pricela, and then Moril as they disappeared into their apartments. Finally alone in the hall, Percy turned to Sara and smiled down at her. She smiled back at him. There was something new on her face. A quality that he hadn't seen earlier in the evening, when they had company.

They didn't say anything for a while. Since Percy was kind of drunk, and Sara was quite beautiful, he started to forget where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, is that your place?" Sara said, gesturing to something behind him.

"Hmm? Oh, sure," he said noncommittally.

She just looked at him, clearly amused.

He was starting to get the impression she was waiting for something.

"But you know, I think there's something wrong with it," he said slowly.

An amused eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It's so. So fucking broken."

She giggled adorably. Adorably. That was a good word for her. She was adorable. And kissable. And getting kissable-er by the second.

"Well, maybe I should take a look at it. You know, I'm quite handy."

"I bet you are," he said with a knowing smirk.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he knew, or what the thing he just said, even meant. But it felt right.

The easy teasing smile on her face broadened into a wide smirk.

"Do you want me to take a look at the 'so fucking broken' thing?"

"Yes, of course. It's just in here."

He led her into the apartment, and closed the door behind her, failing to keep from checking out her ass as she walked past him. She was wearing jeans so tight, they had to be some sort of denim/spandex hybrid. They hugged every inch of her mile-long legs. She was wearing a gray hoodie on top, and her hair was tied into a loose ponytail. She had no right to look as good as she did. No right whatsoever.

"So, where's the broken thing?"

"The what?"

"The thing you described as 'so fucking broken'," she clarified helpfully.

"Uhh," he looked around the room wildly for a few seconds, before fixing his gaze on a small patch of the wall next to him, "Oh, it was right- Well, I guess it- You know, it seems to be fixed."

She nodded wisely, "Well, I told you I was good."

"Yes, yes you did. Do you think I could offer you a drink, to say thank you for all your hard work?"

"I think you could tempt me," she said with a knowing smile.

He grinned and made his way to the kitchen. There was nothing in the fridge. He checked his cupboards. Empty.

"Umm…"

He turned on the tap in the kitchen sink, and let it run for a second. Then he used his aquakinesis to bend some water into two cups, and froze it. Then he filled them with water.

"Here you go," he said as he handed her one of the ice-cups.

She stared at it for a second before taking it.

"So, I see you haven't been shopping yet."

"Honestly, you've spent about as much time in this apartment as I have. I don't know what I would even need to go shopping for. Weird as it may sound, this is kind of the first time I've ever lived alone."

She shrugged, "I never lived alone until I passed OTC either."

"Did you go straight into Spec Ops out of Basic?"

"Of course. It was amazing, I worked my ass off to get in. Sad to see they've lowered the standards since then," she said with a cheeky wink.

In retaliation, Percy un-froze her ice-cup, soaking her hoodie.

She shrieked playfully and kicked his leg. Then she snatched his own cup out of his hand, and tossed the water at his face.

With the slightest mental command, he dried himself off.

"Oh, that is so not fair. Dry me off too!"

Percy shrugged, "I don't see why I should. You were very mean to me just a second ago."

"No no no, I think you're misremembering. That was someone else. Now dry me off!"

"Nope."

She rolled her eyes, before suddenly adopting a challenging look, which spelled certain doom for Percy.

Sara reached up to the zipper of her gray hoodie, and pulled it down with a tantalising lack of speed. It took her a full minute to get it all the way to the bottom, and she maintained eye contact the entire time. Percy was pretty sure he was starting to sweat.

Then the hoodie slipped off a shoulder. She was wearing a tank top underneath. It looked loose. It was gray too. And try as he might, he couldn't find a bra strap.

"You know, I was wondering if you were ever going to invite me in here."

The other shoulder slipped out of the hoodie.

"I mean, if it's been as long for you as it has for me, then I would have thought you'd jump me in the streets."

It was slipping down her back, inch by inch, far too slowly.

"I was starting to think I was crazy."

It was past her breasts.

"You were driving me crazy."

The hoodie was on the floor.

Percy never stood a chance.

—-

Percy woke up the next morning, feeling a magnificently warm and soft body wrapped into his own. That was a good way to wake up, he reflected. Absolutely fantastic. Sara wasn't quite awake yet, but she was getting there. He stroken her hair gently, and watched in amazement as she blinked her eyes open delicately. She really was a special creature. The simple act of opening her eyes, was enough to keep him enthralled. What even was that? How was something like that possible?

"Good morning," she almost whispered.

"Good morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Fantastic. You?"

"Excellent. How's your first day as a fully qualified Operator in Chaos' Army going?"

He lifted the sheet slightly to take in the sight of her naked form.

"So far? Fucking spectacular, if you don't mind me saying."

"Well, I'm very happy for you," she said with a grin and a playful bite to his chest.

"How did you spend your first day out of OTC?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special. Just slept a lot, really. I didn't really know anyone that I gave much of a damn about at the time. Chaos took me out to dinner on Karrick, to celebrate. That was nice."

Percy felt pretty bad for her. He'd had his spells of loneliness, but what she was describing sounded nothing short of tragic.

"How about the people you were in OTC with?"

"They didn't like me very much."

"Where they mentally deficient?"

She cracked a smile, "No. That was a pretty popular position at the time. A lot of people saw me as Chaos' pet. They thought she personally intervened to get me to where I was. And for all I know, she did. I guess that's why I worked so hard to build up a reputation. No one calls me a pet nowadays."

"I'm really sorry," he said softly.

She shrugged, like it didn't really matter.

"Anyway, what are your plans for today?"

Percy considered the question.

"Well, I'll probably hang out with you, if you have nothing else going on. Might see Pricela and Moril for a little while. Oh, and I want to go visit Hazel and see how she's doing."

"She's almost at her 150th year of training. I've heard she's doing quite well. Might even be Spec Ops material."

He felt pride bloom in his chest.

The rest of the morning, was spent in bed. It easily ranked as one of the best mornings of Percy's life.

At some point later in the day, he met Pricela and Moril, and they got drinks together. They wondered what their missions were going to be like. How busy they would be. How often they'd get to see each other. Percy thought he could detect an undercurrent of nerves in the conversation. But the general tone was one of excitement.

Once they'd said goodbye, Percy made his way over to the Training Center.

There were a lifetime of his memories stored within those walls. Truly countless hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Like the time he'd almost been killed by his own bunkmates. Or the time an Instructor had broken his nose. In fairness to him, Percy had broken his nose first. But still. Dick move.

Once he was inside the building, he closed his eyes and stretched out his senses, searching for the only presence in the building he expected to recognise. He found her on the 24th floor, and seemed to be in the middle of Unarmed Hand-to-Hand training.

So, he got on the elevator and went up. As soon as he laid eyes on the room, he was vaguely startled. They all looked so… slow. Surely he hadn't been moving so slowly when he'd been training here? This was just sad. They were practically mortals.

He found Hazel in the mass of cadets, and wondered how Sara would see this room. He knew for a fact, that she was still faster than him. Much faster. So much faster, he doubted he would ever catch up. Would she look around the room, and see nothing but ice sculptures? That was a distinct possibility.

Percy found Hazel sparring with another cadet and, he was relieved to see, she was kicking his ass. She still looked slow, but not as much as everyone else, which was nice. Percy figured them Earthlings would have to stick together.

"Boo," he said casually, as he got near enough.

She jumped and whirled around, fist cocked for a blow which would likely be devastating if it ever connected. But she recognised him quickly enough to pull back. He smiled.

She flew at him and he hugged her tight. This was the first time he was seeing someone from his old life, in more than a lifetime. What a strange thought.

"How are you? I've missed you so much! Where have you been?"

He chuckled, "I'm alright Hazel. I actually just got back from a thing. I'll tell you all about it. You wanna go catch up over some coffee?"

She blinked at him, "Percy, I can't just up and leave, I've got training for the rest of the day."

He shrugged, "Ah, fuck that. You're the best in here anyway. Come with me."

Percy led her over to the guy he assumed was this class's lead Instructor.

"I'm taking Lavesque out for the day. You'll have her back tomorrow."

He thought that was quite courteous of him. He could have just taken her, and left the Instructor with nothing but his dick in his hand. But he chose to give him a heads up. Apparently, the Instructor saw things differently.

"Excuse me? What the hell do you mean, you're taking her?"

"Which part is confusing you?"

There was some color on those cheeks now.

"And just why, exactly, should I let you do whatever you want with my class?"

Percy took a step closer, and as he did, he subtly stretched his spine, muscles, and bones to make himself an inch taller. He also made his eyes turn a shade darker, and thickened his vocal chords, to make his voice deeper.

The overall effect wasn't incredibly obvious. But it was terrifying for the person on the receiving end.

"Are you going to stop me?" he asked, his suddenly deep voice hardly rising above a whisper.

The Instructor stared at him for a few seconds, and the color that had risen so suddenly to his face, drained away.

"Alright, fine. Just have her back tomorrow," he said, in an effort to salvage some dignity.

Percy nodded, made a 'let's go' gesture to Hazel, and led her to the elevators.

He reflected on what had just happened, as he let his transformation ease back to normal. That was probably the clearest demonstration he'd seen so far, on how much Selection and OTC had changed him. Before any of that, talking to an Instructor whose experience vastly outweighed his own like that, would have horrified him. The Instructor himself would be seen as a force almost akin to the Olympians.

But now, he was nothing. As Percy had stared into his eyes and beaten him down, he hadn't felt a shred of anxiety, or nerves. There was simply nothing this person could do to him. If a physical altercation broke out, Percy would flatten him. If he tried to make a bureaucratic complaint, he would hit a wall as soon as Percy's name and Spec Ops status hit the paperwork.

Percy remembered the team of SAS or SBS guys that had once nearly killed him in Liverpool. He had identified the look in their eyes that had separated them from the rest. The look of pure ease. The look of men who were untouchable, and knew it. He had thought it was a look he'd shared. How naive of him. But he understood now. Now, he knew what it really meant, to be confident. To be capable.

Percy and Hazel spent some time in the cafe where he'd met Sara for the first time. She'd had plenty of questions about where he'd been, and what he'd been up to. He told her, though he edited the story heavily. She'd had several questions about Selection, and he'd simply refused to answer them. Sara had refused to answer his own, and he saw the reasoning behind that. Had Percy gone into it knowing what to expect, then half the stress of the entire event, would simply be eliminated. The not knowing, had probably been the worst part for Percy. Certainly worse than anything physical. The psychological stress of never knowing if you were good enough. If you were in the clear, or about to be sent packing. It could kill someone. He was vaguely surprised it hadn't already. Or maybe it had, and he just didn't know.

When he returned to his new apartment after his chat with Hazel, he'd found Sara waiting for him, wearing little more than she had when he'd left. She was still in bed, smirking at him in a way that told him exactly what was about to happen.

He had a few weeks off before he became officially operational. He could manage a few weeks fo this.

A/N: Alright then. As I write this, I'm 46 minutes into January 20th. I had intended for this and the previous chapter, to be joined together. And I had intended for this mega-chapter to be completed and released on January 1st. Oh, how naive I was. I had also intended for OTC to be a shorter chapter than Selection. As of right now, the combined word count of both OTC chapters is 33,464. Things, you may say, got a little out of hand. But, alas, here it is. The completion of OTC. Hope you enjoyed. See you in the next one. Stay safe.